Married
by Bea Ryan
Summary: "When Miles told her to keep an eye on the Nevilles, Charlie never guessed it would lead to this." Jarlie fluff with minor angst. This story is complete, but there will be a companion piece called "The Kids Got Married" published next week with the Mathesons and Nevilles snarking at each other.
1. Chapter 1

When Miles told her to keep an eye on the Nevilles, Charlie never guessed it would lead to this. They were supposed to be buying food for their growing band of warriors while Miles and Rachel bought more ammunition. No one had counted on the impact Julia would have on the trip. Jason and Tom had settled on the velvet cushioned, ornately carved chairs comprising a sitting area near the dressing rooms. Charlie and Julia were browsing dresses. At least Julia was. Charlie couldn't recall the last time she'd worn a dress and couldn't think of the next time she might. Even as a small child she'd been more of a tomboy, preferring clothes that allowed movement and resisted tearing to delicate lace and bows.

She had a girly side of course, had worn dresses when the moment called for it. She'd worn a dress on her first date. She'd been fourteen and one of the two boys in town her age had asked her if she'd sit by him at the fall festival. It was a small village. She knew what it was and so did the rest of the town. She'd washed her hair, worn a dress, and sat uncomfortably beside him in silence as they'd eaten apple pie and roasted pumpkin soup under the watchful eye of fifty bored adults glad to finally have something new to talk about and an excuse to reminisce about their own first dates. He'd told her she was pretty when she dressed up, as if that was something that should matter to her.

Her annoyance grew with each scrape of a hanger along the metal rod as she flicked past progressively more useless items and shoved the rejects away. Her eyes slid over to Jason and she realized he'd never seen her in a dress. She suspected he might never have seen his mother in anything else. No wonder he found Charlie fascinating. Julia presented another purple shift for her approval and Charlie smiled and nodded, trying to feign interest.

It was Jason who had her attention. She kept sliding the dresses along the rail one by one to avoid getting caught watching him. He looked even larger and more worn by the elements than usual in this setting, but he looked relaxed despite perching on the edge of the uncomfortable chair, and his big hands handled the tiny tea cup with ease. The shopgirl refilled his tea, overfilled it really, and when he picked it up he didn't spill a drop. He gave Charlie a wink, so quick she wasn't even certain it was a wink instead of a twitch until he nodded towards the dress in her hand.

It was an A line cut, smaller at the top and full at the bottom, made from a light-weight, flowing white fabric that shimmered as she shook it. The top was a boatneck, functional and similar to the tanktops she always wore, but made delicate by the pearls sewn around the collar. She touched one, spinning it around the threads that held it to the fabric, and her other hand came to rest against her belly as his words last night echoed in her mind.

"I've been at war most of my life. I've been to weddings. I've held babies. It's the things you're afraid to do that make it worth living through. We could get married, Charlie. Make a family, make a life."

She'd have walked away from him if she hadn't been naked and pinned against a tree. She wasn't a cuddler by nature, not anymore, but with her legs still wrapped around him like a koala and her emotional shield frayed, she'd cried and told him everything. Almost everything anyway. Everything she ever intended to tell anyone. She felt more exposed than simple nudity could ever accomplish, but she still didn't believe he really saw her for who she was. He couldn't.

When he'd said it again this morning, it wasn't we "could" get married. It was "we'll get married and we'll be happy" and he'd smiled as he said it. He'd pulled her tighter against him, and the kiss he'd planted in her hair had made her feel protected, like when they'd closed the community gates at night in Wisconsin. The safety of home had been an illusion, but what he'd offered had felt real. She'd already known he loved her, or at least loved who he thought she was. She hadn't known how much. He would be whoever she needed him to be. The choice was hers.

Now she let herself think about it again. Jason had covered her back when she was strong and held her up when she was weak. He'd taught her to survive and how to live with what she'd done when they were rebels together. Now he wanted to do it again and forever. She tried to picture them together in ten years and couldn't do it. She could picture him holding a baby though. Their baby. He'd be the kind of father who changed diapers and kissed scraped knees. He'd be like her dad. She couldn't wish for better for her children, although she thought she didn't really want them. It didn't really matter. If you had enough sex, eventually the odds just caught you.

"Is that a wedding dress?" Julia gasped. She was uncomfortably close and shoving her way into the rack to study the dress. "Are you looking at wedding dresses?"

"What? No," Charlie insisted.

"Then why are you touching that?"

"I don't know. It's pretty."

Julia's eyes ran up and down Charlie, noting in particular the hand on her stomach. She cast a quick glance at her son, squared her shoulders, blinked slowly once, and forced on an expression she probably thought looked happy.

"So," she said. "You're the girl who's going to marry Jason." Her smile was thin and tight as she pushed on. "Well isn't this just wonderful news. I've wondered when I'd get a daughter-in-law. You'll do it before we head to Washington, of course. Tom and I only have one living child and it's important that this be done properly."

Charlie blinked and held back a laugh. "Properly. Of course," she agreed.

"I'm glad we're agreed. How fortunate that your family and Jason's are both all along on this little shopping trip together. I'll go make the arrangements."

"Arrangements?" Charlie asked.

"We're leaving tomorrow. It will need to be done today." Julia's eyes ran over Charlie like a bully looking for a target. "Yes, today. Clearly the sooner the better."

Julia crossed the room and stopped in front of Tom, leaning down to whisper in his ear. Tom reached in his pocket, drew out a leather drawstring pouch, and pulled out a pinch of diamonds. With a distinctly unhappy expression he handed them to Jason before rising and following Julia out of the store.

After the door closed behind them, Jason crossed the room to Charlie. "I can't believe you told my mom before you told me."

"What's going on? Where are they going?" Charlie asked.

"To plan the wedding," he answered.

"The wedding?"

"We're still meeting Miles and your mom in two hours. My dad will be there with further instructions."

"Further instructions about what?" Charlie asked.

"I have orders not to let you leave here without a dress, Charlie. You told her we're getting married today."


	2. Chapter 2

Julia took careful steps across the warped floorboards of the empty space the bar used as a dance floor and made her way back towards the table. She had been sincerely grinning, as she turned away from her brief conversation with the lounge singer who was nursing a beer through her break, but when Julia's eyes landed on her destination, the table where Tom, Jason, Charlie, Rachel and Miles awaited her, her true smile was replaced by a frozen one. Come hell or high water, her son would have a wonderful wedding day. It was hot and dry in Texas in June, the bride looked like a deer in headlights and Julia was the only one at this sorry excuse for a wedding reception not openly carrying a weapon. It wouldn't take too much more to convince her she was in hell.

She had almost paid off the minister to skip the line asking if anyone objected. Only the bride, the groom, Tom, Julia, Miles, Rachel, and the minister had attended the wedding and she still figured he was rolling the dice on half of them when he'd asked the question. For better or worse, they'd all stayed quiet. All they could do now was ride this runaway wagon and try to steer it to a safe stop. If by some unlikely miracle this story had a happy ending then she wanted to make a good impression on her new daughter-in-law. If it crashed and burned then she'd still be able to say she'd supported her son's dream.

"What did you do?" Tom asked as she settled beside him.

"You'll see," she said as she planted a kiss on his cheek. She reached for Jason, placing her carefully manicured fingers over his large, heavily veined hand and squeezed. He pulled his eyes away from Charlie, a rarity all day, and smiled at his mother. Of the six of them he was the most obviously happy, and for Julia that was, if not enough, at least a good start.

The group sat silently for a moment. Miles stared into his whiskey, and Rachel's carefully neutral expression didn't come close to hiding her true feelings. Tom was just bemused by it all, and his shit eating grin chafed Miles more than his betrayals ever had. This one was personal. Charlie's gaze was focused like a laser on unimportant things. It had been on the sign on the wall for a while, but she'd moved her eyes once asked what was so fascinating. She stared at her own hands, then at Julia's on Jason. When the band took the stage and the first notes of the wedding march began, silencing the low murmur of the bar, Charlie snapped to attention.

The music stopped after a few bars and the singer, Julia's recent companion in scheming, tapped a knife to the side of half-empty glass, the sounding ringing out over the small early evening crowd in the bar. "Ladies and gentlemen, we have newlyweds in our midst. I assume they chose this..." She let her eyes trail over the crowd of dedicated drunks and market vendors getting a bit in the bag before they headed back to their farms. "This exceptional wedding reception venue." She paused again to let the crowd chuckle. "Because we're the only place in town open after the market closed. But as we've all learned in the Blackout, limited options don't mean you made a bad choice. Please put your hands together and welcome them to the floor for their first dance as husband and wife. Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you Jason and Charlotte Neville."

Charlie blanched at the words and reached for her whiskey glass, but Jason grabbed her hand, pulling her with him as he stood.

"I'm not changing my name," she said.

"We'll talk about it," he answered. He strode towards the dance floor with big, proud steps, tugging Charlie along behind him. When he reached the center of the empty dance floor he draped her hands around his neck and placed his own around her waist. They swayed more or less in sync as the singer warbled along with the piano to a song that had been popular before they were born.

Charlie moved stiffly, unused to dancing and certainly unused to doing it while strangers stared. Jason was more fluid. His mother had made sure he knew the basics of ballroom dancing and Philadelphia's bars had taught him the rest. Heat and tension curled within him as Charlie's body pressed the length of his. She held herself as taut as a guitar string and he wanted to pluck her until she sang.

She tried to relax, to be the jolly bride, and put on a smile. Whatever other problems they had, the sex was great. She teased him, "I can't believe you're grinding that thing against me in front of our families."

He nudged her into a slight turn with his hip. "First, I'm not grinding. It's there. You're there. There's really no way to keep the two of you apart. Second," he ran his hand down her back, letting it rest on her bottom which now faced away from the watchful eyes at the table, "If it bothers you we can step outside and you can do something about it."

She laughed and rested her head on his chest. "Great. So single sex is pine sap in my hair and married sex is a stand-up in the alley behind the bar. We're living the good life."

He hugged her closer to him and inhaled the deeply, drawing in the scent of the flowers braided into her hair. He wanted to say something soft and romantic, something a groom says to the love of his life on their wedding day, but it wasn't what she needed to hear. "I figure we'll be sleeping in the back of the wagon between our mothers on the way back to Willoughby. We better knock one out while we can."

"So one woman on your wedding night isn't enough for you," she said. "You plan to take three to bed."

He moved his hand up to her lower back as their slow turn on the dance floor moved it into the view of their parents. "You're an amazing woman, Charlie. You know why?"

She heard the tease in his tone and said, "Do tell."

"Because you managed to mention having three women in bed and kill my boner at the same time."

She laughed outright at that. "If a bed full of women is a goal for you we probably should have discussed that before the wedding."

"You're the only woman I want," he promised. She tensed at his declaration and he continued, "You're so good at finding trouble I couldn't handle more than one anyway."

She looked into his eyes and let her hands thread into his hair. "You've always got my back," she said.

"Always," he promised.

She sighed deeply then. "You have terrible judgement."

"That's your opinion."

"I won't stop you from being wrong," she replied. That was the heart of it. He'd known what he was getting into with her and he'd done it anyway. There would be no turning back. For better or worse, she'd married him. She might as well enjoy it. She snuggled in closer and tried to feel like she thought a bride should: safe, happy, loved, and in love.

* * *

Charlie heard the words, "Can I cut in?" before she felt the poke on her shoulder. She reached for the knife hidden beneath the full skirt of her wedding dress before she looked up to see who'd asked. Julia's plastic smile had chased her like an aggressive clown all day. Here it was again, cutting in on her first comfortable moment. She needed to learn some mother-in-law jokes.

Miles was just behind Julia, and he wore the particular expression of boredom and irritation that he reserved for Jason's parents. To Charlie he said, "You're with me."

He took her hand as Julia took Jason's and led her several steps away from the Nevilles. He shuffled awkwardly from right foot to left for several beats before he spoke. "If you want out, I can knock him on the head and have you past the town line in under five minutes."

"Miles!"

"Don't worry. Tom and Julia won't even bother to throw out a leg to trip us."

"Stop," she said.

"I won't even hit him that hard, just enough to knock him out."

"No one forced me into this, you know."

"Which brings us to the day's big mystery. You ready to tell me what the hell is going on? Where did this come from? When?"

"Jason and I talked about it last night. Julia took over. I don't know why, but she started planning and I didn't stop her."

"She thinks you're pregnant."

Charlie didn't answer.

"Is it Jason's?"

She still didn't answer.

"Does he know that?"

"He's my Bass," she said quietly. "I need that right now."

"What does that even mean?"

"No matter what, he's always been there for me. I can count on him."

Miles' body continued to stiffly rock to the music but his head rolled away from her like it was on wheels. "He's your Bass? And that's a good thing? Have you met Bass? Oh yeah. You have. You were bent on killing him for a while."

"Whether you like it or not, Bass always has you in mind, Miles. Have you ever told him what you needed and he didn't go crazy trying to get it for you? You can count on him to take care of you. Jason's just as devoted to me as Bass is to you, but he's not crazy."

"Bass is a lot of things. Crazy isn't one of them. He just… tries too hard."

Charlie patted Miles' shoulder as the song ended. "Maybe if you'd thrown it down in bed for him like I do for Jason he wouldn't think he has to try so hard." She started making her way back to the table before Miles could get off an answer.


	3. Chapter 3

Charlie turned the ornate key in the tumblrs of the lock and heard it click open. Fifteen years ago this inn was a bed and breakfast in a town described as quaint in guides to antiquing. Now it was the nicest hotel in the biggest market town within three days drive. Charlie just hoped for soft blankets and a fresh pitcher of water.

She smiled at Jason. "I still can't believe your mother booked the honeymoon suite. Do we want to make any guesses before we look?"

"A bed," he answered. "All I want is a bed. Not a bed of pine needles either. I've had enough pine cones in the wrong place."

"At least you didn't get sap in your hair." She pushed open the door and took a step forward, but Jason grabbed her around the waist.

"I have to carry you over the threshold."

"What?" She shook her head and tried to pull free. "We've been through a bunch of thresholds already today."

"This matters to me," he said.

She stopped, disarmed by his openness, but unwilling to give in. "I'm still me. Getting married didn't make me weak."

"I married you because you're you, but I'm not wearing a ring because I like jewelry. I want all of it, Charlie, and if you were really as above it all as you're trying to be you wouldn't have your bouquet sticking out of your bag."

She looked at her flowers, already wilting even though they'd been picked only hours ago, and knew they wouldn't last. None of it would. She occasionally caught hope out of the corner of her eye, she'd spotted it shining in Jason's face as Miles had walked her down the aisle, but she knew the bad would always find its way back to her. Sooner or later Jason would see her as she really was and what he'd agreed to, and it would all unravel. No matter what she'd told Miles, she didn't think Jason would stay as blindly devoted as Bass had always been to Miles once it finally sunk in to him who she was.

She felt Jason's arm around her waist and decided for tonight and for as long as she could hold it, she'd be happy. If happiness could be had by sheer force of will it would be hers. She smiled at him and let the moment spin out. They'd really done it, gotten married. When he'd proposed she'd told him maybe, one day, but then Julia had intervened. At 11 AM Julia had begun planning the wedding and four hours later Charlie had heard the first strains of the wedding march. Miles had joked that if it would get Tom out of town sooner he'd give away the bride himself. True to his word, he'd tucked her hand in the crook of his arm, asked one final time if she was sure, and nudged open the door of the church with the toe of his boot. It had been an emotional ride of a day, her mood swinging wildly between joy, shock, fear and terror, but at the core of the day was Jason, her hearth and her fire, radiating warmth and safety, ready to make wherever they were a home.

Was there any harm in letting him carry her over the threshold? It was like taking a jacket with her just because Grandpa asked her to. It didn't mean he'd won anything or that she'd given up something. It meant she'd made him happy. She had the power to make his mouth quirk a certain way, a smile that was just for her, and in this moment she could see it or she could turn it away.

"So pick me up already," she said.

He smiled so broadly his eyes crinkled until they nearly closed. Charlie felt her equilibrium shift as he lifted her. It was strange not to walk on her own power. Even on a horse she had some sense of control, but now she was helpless, counting on him not to drop her or bash her head into a door. He tried to shift her so he could kiss her as he held her, but she teased and dodged.

"No?" he asked.

She leaned in, awkward and unsteady as he held her with one hand under her knees and one behind her back, and kissed him. "Can we go in now? This is weird." She pushed on the door then, opening it enough for them to move through, and wrapped her arms around him, holding on as best she could, hoping he wouldn't drop her.

* * *

Half an hour later, Charlie's passion was dying a little more with each thrust. She was pinned beneath her husband, twice her size and twice as eager as she was, and knew that she'd made a mistake. Wed in haste, repent at leisure they said. They were right. She'd wanted it to be simpler. He loved her enough for both of them, even if he only felt that way because he refused to see who she really was now. God help her, she'd married him. Now all the passion of three weeks of fucking in the woods and the intimacy of their shared history was smothered beneath his sweating, rutting body in the most boring of all the sexual positions in a saggy, flea ridden bed with stained, lace edged sheets and a lumpy, floral bedspread.

Jason stopped the movement of his hips and rested his head in the crook of her neck. "You aren't into this at all, are you?"

She threaded her hands in his damp hair, not wanting to lie but knowing better than to tell the whole truth. "I've never done missionary before. Something new for my wedding night."

"Too bad it's not something you like." He rolled off of her with that statement and rested his arm over his face, hiding his eyes from her view. It was ironic that of all the sex they'd had in the last few weeks, this was the worst. Worse than the funeral sex the night they'd lost ten soldiers. Worse than the distraction sex to help them ignore that they'd had water and a few wild greens instead of a meal for dinner. Then they'd been focused, desperate for the distraction. Distraction was still an issue, but it was working against them tonight.

He took a deep breath and forced it out hard, trying to blow out the frustration and find a solution. "Do you want to hear stories about the Republic?" he asked.

Charlie just looked at him with a confused expression.

"You've been asking a lot about the founding of the Republic lately. What it was like for a kid in a war camp, the daycare tents, Junior Patrol. I can tell you about the time I looted a jewelry store so I could earn the job of ring bearer. I don't think you've heard that one and it fits the day."

"I didn't know I'd been asking," she said.

"It's OK. I understand why. Charlie, war doesn't have to stop us from being happy. We can fight during the day then come home and play catch with the kids before settling in for the night. Lots of people do it." His smile broadened and his tone turned teasing as he moved his arm and rolled to face her. "Of course if you want a third kid it helps to have a two room tent."

"A THIRD kid?"

"From what I've heard the second kid gets conceived when the first kid is about two years old and asleep nearby, looking adorable as all hell and making you forget that they're a lot of work. It's at least half on purpose. You don't fall for that again. Also for the third, the first kid is old enough that there would be some explaining to do if he caught his parents making another one."

Charlie rolled to face the wall. Good god he was planning a herd of children. He'd taken a wedding to mean they were going to breed their own army. He curled around behind her, technically spooning her but his sweat and her terror blended until it seemed like a sea creature was trying to swallow her.

"Are you sure about this?" she asked. "You don't have to go through with it. We can just pretend we didn't. Your parents are leaving and if I ask Mom and Miles not to tell anyone they won't."

"Why would you ask that?"

She didn't want to hurt him. She loved him in her own way, just not the making dinner every night, constantly pregnant, two room tent way. That wasn't who she was, and the fact that he didn't know that just proved how big a mistake this was. She liked heading into a fight knowing he could hold up his end of the mission. She liked that he could read her in bed and knew when to take charge and when to let her take him. She liked that he didn't think he knew it all. She loved that he loved her, endlessly and above all else. No matter what she did or wanted to do, so far, she could count on Jason.

Her stomach ached and guilt pressed the air from her lungs. She'd made a mess of her life, felt like she was drowning in bad choices and their consequences, and when he'd offered his support she'd grabbed onto him like a life raft.

She rolled over to face him. She could do the right thing. She could give him a door out and push him through it. "Jason, people are going to know this isn't your baby."

"You don't know that. You don't even know that she isn't mine."

"I know I was already late when you turned back up. I know my body is already changing. Jason, this isn't a three week bump. It's a seven week bump. It's not yours."

"But the other guy is gone right? I'm the only father she'll ever have?"

Charlie didn't answer. The sperm donor, as she now thought of him, wasn't as far gone as she'd like. If he'd been further away, if Jason had handled it badly when she'd told him instead of proposing, if she'd chosen different lovers. Any single change and she might never have even given Jason's proposal much thought, much less taken him up on it.

"How are you going to feel when I deliver a big, healthy baby and we try to convince people it's early?"

"I'm a big guy. A big baby isn't a surprise."

"It won't look like you."

"My mom is tall and blond. My dad's the opposite. I can explain away anything but a redhead."

"And if the baby is a redhead?"

"Then when her temper goes off we'll blame it on my dad instead of her hair. Charlie, I want this. I'll take care of both of you and anyone else who comes along, too."

"I don't think I want other kids. I didn't even plan to have this one, but it's not like I have options."

"Do you know any happy couples who manage not to have kids?" he asked.

In truth she didn't. Irregular food supplies made for irregular bodies, making the rhythm method nearly useless. She'd been constantly waiting for Maggie to announce a pregnancy, and she'd been a doctor in a reasonably successful farming community. Out on the run things were harder to predict. There were other things you could do. She did them. They weren't foolproof. The baby growing in her now proved that.

"Do you really think we can be just a normal, happy family?" she asked

He rested a hand on her the slight bump of her stomach, and his thumb moved back and forth in a slow caress just below her navel, taking a moment to consider his answer. Happy was a lot to ask. He couldn't even promise safety given Charlie's determination to stay in the fight against the Patriots. "I don't know. I've never been part of a normal, happy family. I can promise to put you both first. Always. Not my goals or my ego or anything else. Just you and her."

"Why do you call it her?"

He scoffed and said, "I'm hoping for a version of you that's not so hopeless and mopey."

"What?" she asked, stunned.

"Charlie, I love you but you are not always easy to love. Now for example."

"I'm not?"

"Do you think you are?"

"Tell me what's wrong with me," she said. The muscles in her face twitched, and she bit her lip, trying to get herself under control. "Tell me why we don't work."

"We work fine," he promised. "You're brave, smart, determined. I love all of that."

Her face stilled. "Oh."

They lay silently, side by side, in the bed for a few moments, then he took her hand. "I hope the baby brings back some of your hope, your kindness."

He gave her a hint of a smile. "Just some though," he said. "Not a stupid amount. I still can't believe you walked to Philly to confront Monroe and lived through it. My wife's a badass, which is cool, but I don't want to worry about my daughter as much as I have to worry about you."

"Your daughter," she repeated before asking, "Are you sure you want to be a father?"

"Yeah."

"And you don't mind that she's not yours?"

He let his head fall against the pillow. "You can't keep rubbing it in my face that maybe she's going to look a little like someone else. She's mine. Just polish the truth with your stubborn until you believe it. She's mine."

She studied him then, confirming for herself what she already knew. He'd be a good father, devoted and caring like hers. She might not have had a good man set her on this path, but she could walk it with one. She reached out a tentative hand and caressed his cheek. "I get it. She's yours."

He didn't answer. Patience was usually one of his strengths, and he forced himself to stay still and to wait. He should have let her come to this moment before the wedding. Better late than never.

Charlie curled her fingers around his ear and then his jaw as her hand moved down the planes of his face, gently pulling him closer to her. She leaned in and kissed him, slowly and softly, as if they had all the time in the world, as if a war wasn't waiting for them in the morning.

"You know I'm a mess, right?" she asked.

"Yeah," he answered.

"And you love me anyway?"

"Yeah."

"Jason, why did you marry me?"

"Because you're having my baby and I don't want anyone to ever say I did less than right by both of you."

Tears ran down her face as she said, "I don't deserve this."

"You think you don't love me as much as I love you," he said. His expression was held carefully blank even as he noticed her tears abruptly stop. "Does anyone else know you're pregnant?"

"I haven't told anyone."

"Why?" He let the question hang, and when she didn't answer he asked, "Who do you talk to about your mom and Miles?"

She looked away, but answered, "You."

He asked, "Who did ask to go with you to dig graves for your squadron?"

"You."

"Why?" he asked gently.

"It needed doing. I knew I'd end up crying. I don't like crying in front of people."

"So I'm not people?"

"No, you're not. You're Jason. You're your own category." He waited, and after a few deep breaths she continued. "You're devoted and frustrating and supportive. And you do crappy things and then I forgive you."

"We're family," he said.

"Kind of, but not really." She shrugged. "I wouldn't be having this conversation naked if we were family."

"Follow that thought on through, Charlie. What family member is it OK to get naked with?"

At first she look confused, as if he was asking questions that didn't have an answer, but then realization slowly began to dawn. "You're my husband!" she exclaimed.

He burst out laughing. "Yeah, I am. There was a wedding. You wore that dress on the floor."

She pushed against his chest, shoving him flat onto his back, and climbed on top of him. "No. You don't get it. It's who you are. It's who you should be."

"Charlie, I get it."

"We got married this afternoon," she said. "For better or worse, richer or poorer, in sickness and in health. Married." She looked around, as if seeing the room for the first time. "And now we're in the honeymoon suite." She looked down and studied the broad chest beneath her, letting her fingers trace the lines and curves of his muscles. "We're naked in the honeymoon suite."

He smiled and rested his hands on her hips. "If you have any ideas…"

Her grin broadened and a mischievous glint lit her eyes. "I have a plan, but I'm going to need your help. Are you with me?"

"Always," he promised.


End file.
